Rebel
by SchiBri
Summary: Four years after the destruction of Alderaan, Raylinda Stalwarth has secretly joined the Rebellion on Coruscant. A child of privilege, her handlers pair her with a top agent for a daring strike near the Imperial Palace, but when the mission fails...


Jacen Raims watched in frustration as his portable targeting computer tracked the _Lambda-_class shuttle through the Coruscant sky until it disappeared behind the Imperial Palace. It never came close to establishing a lock. Cursing aloud, he stepped away from the window and closed down the heavily modified MDX-12 rocket-propelled-grenade launcher. This wasn't what was supposed to happen.

"Six weeks!" he shouted. "They pulled me out of Corsin for six goddamned weeks for this op and it's wasted because some hick shuttle-driver decides to go and make up his flight path. Everyone else in the Alliance is running around like madmen getting ready for some huge operation and I'm sidelined for this cluster-fuck of a mission. I swear to god, the next time they pull me off world for something like this, they'd better damn well know the fucking flight path."

Raylinda kept her silence as she looked at her co-conspirator and nodded her head in sympathy. It _had _been six weeks since Jacen had been brought in from Corsin, but most of that time had been spent establishing his new cover identity with Raylinda and she had found that time to be quite enjoyable. Then again, what was enjoyable for the daughter of a wealthy shipping magnate may not be the same as what was enjoyable for an experienced covert operative. And the process had been more demanding on Jacen who, long since considered an 'enemy of the state,' had gone through yet another round of cosmetic micro-surgery to change his appearance. Raylinda wondered if Jacen was even his real name.

Raylinda on the other hand simply had to be herself. Or rather the version of herself that she had been before her involvement with the Rebellion, before she had opened her eyes to the galaxy as it actually was. It was easy enough to draw upon the character of her old debutant self as it was one she actively maintained when living at home with her family. So it was no trouble to feign the same privileged arrogance she had once so naturally exuded as she and Jacen had worked to create a legitimate history for their fake secret affair. Raylinda was supposedly 'slumming it' with the ruggedly handsome, but not-quite-socially-acceptable Jacen through a series of secret liaisons at some out-of-the-way locations across Imperial Center.

Ostensibly, it was the celebration of their one-month anniversary that brought them here to the Royal Imperial Hotel. The real reason for their visit was currently being packed up into their luggage as Jacen continued to curse under his breath. Raylinda couldn't help but feel a little relieved. She had been an unofficial member of the Alliance to Restore the Republic for almost two years now, but this was the first time she had been assigned to an active operation. Before that they had just asked her to gather information on her father's business and the people with whom he associated. After all this time, she had begun to wonder if she would ever get to actually _do _something and was thrilled when she was told that she would be providing cover for one of their top agents. But now, having been to the precipice and back of actually carrying out a missile attack over the heart of Imperial Center, she felt only relief.

She watched in admiration as Jacen packed the computer targeting equipment back into their luggage. The equipment had been incredibly difficult to set up and calibrate, but it was designed to be taken apart quickly. Even so, it was amazing to watch Jacen operate. It was a ballet, every movement so fluid and precise that Raylinda felt almost mesmerized. Jacen had lived up to the rumors she had heard about him. He was smart, quick and decisive. He predicted the moves of their targets as though he had written their script himself. But he was also surly and short-tempered with those who couldn't keep up with him. And Raylinda, who had no experience in the spy world, drew his derision frequently.

It was difficult for Raylinda to accept at first. They would be out in public establishing Jacen's cover and he would be quite pleasant, showering her with the sort of tenderness and affection one would expect from a young couple in love. But as soon as they were in private that version of Jacen disappeared and scorned Raylinda mercilessly. She 'needed to do this,' or she 'shouldn't have done that'; this 'almost compromised the whole operation.' Raylinda would try to take note of all the things he was saying, after all Jacen _was _one of their best field agents in the Rebellion and she really did want to get better. But soon she was simply overwhelmed.

She tried desperately to think of something she could do, something to contribute, something to make Jacen think of her as something other than a waste of space. But nothing came.

"What can I do," she asked helplessly as Jacen fastened the clasps on their 'luggage.'

The calm of the mission must have once again settled over him as he refrained from any sort of sarcastic snap. "Nothing, we're leaving."

A flash of insight: "Leaving? It's not even eight yet."

"Look Ray, the mission called for us to launch the missile and then get caught up in the ensuing commotion. We didn't launch, so now its time to leave." Jacen picked up the case and began heading for the door.

"But Jacen, if there was no attack why would leave the hotel this early?"

Jacen turned around releasing an exhaustive sigh. "Ray, there's nothing more for us to do here. The mission is over do you understand?"

"Yes Jacen," she said, seizing the opportunity and matching his slow condescending tone. "What I mean is that there's no reason for our characters to leave the hotel before eight in the morning." Jacen's eyes flashed with understanding and Raylinda smiled. He was so used to thinking about her as an idiot that it was a reward in and of itself for her to suggest something that would make him stop and think. She arose from the bed and began taking lithe strides toward him. "If there's been no attack, then there's no reason for a young couple on a secret rendezvous to leave the hotel room before-"

"Yeah Ray, I get it," he said impatiently. He placed the case on the floor with a gentleness that seemed contrary to his demeanor. "Now I get to waste another three goddamn hours of my day doing nothing but sitting around in this hotel room."

"Look Jacen, I'm not saying we _have _to, I'm just saying that if this were an actual fling, there's no way I would ever check out before eleven," she flashed her most seductive smile, "or that any man would want to."

But Jacen showed no sign of recognizing her playfulness. In his eyes she just noticed the same calculating stare that he got whenever he was thinking. "No," he said with his usual irritation. "Eleven makes more sense. I spent four weeks establishing this stupid identity, there's no reason to risk it over a few hours of wasted time."

Raylinda smiled and flopped back on the bed. This was the first time she had ever suggested something to Jacen. To have it work and make a positive contribution to operation made her feel downright giddy.

"Besides, it doesn't have to be a waste," she added. "You were up all night setting this up, why don't we get a couple hours of sleep and when we wake up I'll call for room service. We can both shower, have a nice breakfast compliments of my father and leave refreshed."

The idea of pampering himself, even for just a few hours, clearly didn't appeal to Jacen, but whether it was because there was nothing else he could do or the fact that even _he _had to sleep sometime, he gave up and made his way to opposite side of the bed. Unlike Raylinda, who had tucked herself underneath the covers and removed her outer garments, Jacen barely managed to unlaced and remove his shoes before stiffly settling on top of the decadent comforter.

Her pulse was still racing from the intensity of events that morning and as she tucked herself in, she longed for the warmth of a body beside her. Although there had never been any truth to the romance they had been faking for several weeks now, Raylinda felt a pang of disappointment that Jacen would not be joining her under the sheets. She pushed the feelings away as she tried to calm herself. She turned on her side away from Jacen and reached out for the room com-link.

"What are you doing?" Jacen asked. He was laying on his back, his eyes closed and arms folded over his stomach.

"I was going to request a wake-up call for ten."

"So you think it would be suspicious to leave the hotel this early, but placing a wake-up call for a few hours from now is normal?" even with his eyes closed, Raylinda could hear the disgust begin to creep back into Jacen's voice. "Just use the alarm setting on your personal com-link, Ray."

Abashed, she set the alarm for ten and turned over. Suddenly a horrifying thought crept into her head. "Jacen."

"What?"

"What if _we're _the reason the shuttle changed its course?"

"What?"

"What if the shuttle changed its course because we've been compromised?"

"You're just thinking about this now?"

"Well, I mean…"

"Ray, there's only two people besides us who know what we're doing here and believe me, if the Imperials had picked them up and gotten enough information to divert the shuttle, a whole squad of Stormtroopers would have burst through that door an hour ago."

"What about the other cell?"

"What about them? Do you know who smuggled in the missile or where it's going to be launched from? Of course not. They don't know anything about us either, so even if everyone else involved got picked up and interrogated, we'd still be safe because they don't know who we are."

"But they could have found the missile. That would give them enough information to divert the flight and then they'd be looking for the people involved."

"Exactly, in which case we would want to blend in as much as possible. For crying out loud Ray, I thought that's why you suggested we stay in the room until eleven. _If _they found the missile or a member from the other cell and _if _the Imperials are looking for us, we want to be as inconspicuous as possible. For a wealthy socialite and her new boy-toy, that means sleeping in and ordering room service so that's what we'll do."

"What happens to the actual missile?"

"It doesn't matter."

"What do you mean it doesn't matter?"

"Look Ray, our job was to get the targeting equipment in here, calibrate it and establish a lock on the shuttle, then launch the missile by remote. The missile is not my concern."

"So it's just going to sit there."

"I don't even know where _there _is, Ray. It could be on the roof, in the manager's office, hell it could even be outside the hotel. We're not supposed to know. That's how these things work."

"Okay, I just thought that maybe you could find out where it was. I mean you were supposed to send a signal to the launcher, couldn't you just follow that signal?"

"It doesn't work like that Ray. It's just a signal, a one-time burst of radio waves that will trigger the missile. There's nothing to trace. Besides, I haven't sent a signal yet and the moment I do, that rocket will launch which, without any sort of guidance system setup. That means it will travel in a straight line for about ten seconds before one of the Palace's anti-missile turrets shoots it down. Honest to God, you have one good idea about not checking out this early in the morning and you insist on ruining it with these dumb questions. Now will you _please _shut up and go to sleep."

Raylinda opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come out. Tears welled in her eyes as she turned back away from Jacen. Despite his insistence, she couldn't help but feel as though there was something wrong. With fear and uncertainty gnawing away at her stomach, she doubted she would be able to sleep at all. But soon enough, even with all the troubles of the world racing through her mind, utter exhaustion overcame all.

She awoke a few hours later to the sound of the shower going. She turned to find that her com-link had been shut off. She turned it back on and saw that it was already ten-thirty, only a half hour before they were supposed to check out. Not that there was anything for her to do, but she still resented Jacen for turning off her alarm.

There was a knock at the door and Raylinda almost jumped out of the bed. She fastened the complimentary robe around herself and checked the small display that showed who was outside her door. The truncated view didn't show anybody, but the cart with two large covered platters told Raylinda that Jacen had ordered room service and bellhop must have been just out of view of the display. She pressed the release and the door slid open, revealing a dark-skinned man in a burgundy hotel uniform who smiled broadly upon seeing Raylinda's features that weren't entirely covered up by her robe.

"Miss Stalwarth," he asked holding up a datapad and beginning to make his way with the cart into the room.

Raylinda blocked the entrance, smiling back innocently as she grabbed the datapad and signed, leaving the man a healthy tip.

"Thank you miss," he said accepting the datapad and pointing to the nametag on his left breast. "The name's Orlando. Please don't hesitate to call if you need anything."

Raylinda dragged the cart in, allowing the door to slide closed behind it.

"Everything good?"

Raylinda almost jumped again as she felt the Jacen's breath on the back of her neck. The shower was still running but he was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, dripping wet and with a blaster in his right hand. She placed a hand over her heart. "Were you trying to scare me to death?"

"No," he said intently, "I was trying to make sure everything was normal. Is it?"

"As far as I can tell." She lifted the lids on the two dishes revealing two brightly colored tapestries of food. "Is this what you ordered?"

"Yeah, it's traditional breakfast fair on Yaga Minor."

"Yaga Minor?"

"That's where Jacen Raims is from, remember? I figured your new boy-toy would prefer some food from his homeworld and you being the ever-adventuresome gourmand would try some too."

"So what's it taste like?"

"Sweet and spicy front notes with a soft finish if it's done right. Supposedly the skill of the chef can be measured by how well balanced the spice is. The fruit that makes up that bright green sauce has a way of completely neutralizing the heat of the _argoon _peppers that odd-looking patty is made from. The best chefs will prepare it so that the dish will deliver an incredibly spicy note that will last only a second before subsiding completely into a light, creamy finish. Of course, I doubt the chef here is a master of Yagami cuisine."

Raylinda was surprised by the thoroughness of his answer. The Rebellion had selected Yaga Minor as part of Jacen's back-story because of the tremendous economic growth the sector had been experiencing in the past few years. Traders and salesmen of all sorts had been flocking to Coruscant in an attempt to expand their businesses deeper into the Core Worlds. "So are you actually from Yaga Minor? I thought that was just part of the cover story they had created for you."

"It was. I spent three days on Yaga Minor and I was unconscious for two of them recovering from surgery for this op. But it's part of what Jacen Raims would know, so I know it."

Raylinda took the dishes over to the small table sitting beside the wall. She chose the chair that pointed away from the bathroom where Jacen had retreated. She had just begun to pick at the glistening patties when Jacen, fully clothed, stepped around her carrying a pot of caf and two cups. He poured her a cup without asking and quickly dug into his own food.

Over the past few weeks Raylinda had noticed that although he ate quite gracefully when dinning in public, Jacen was a ravenous wolf when eating in private. She had also noticed that their private meals together tended to be silent. So she was doubly surprised when Jacen took a break in his inhalation of food to speak to her.

"Look Ray, I have to apologize for what I said before." He set down his fork and slowly looked up at her. "I sometimes forget how new you are to this. I'm so used to working on my own or with other people like me, that I forget what it must be like for you." He looked back down at his plate and gathered more of the breakfast patty onto his fork, but set it down without eating it. "But I have to know that when the heat of the mission is on, that you'll do exactly what I say."

Of course she would. All she _ever_ did was exactly what he said exactly when he said it. What indication had she ever given him that she would do something different? She wanted to tell him that, to point out to him that she had been perfectly obedient, but she couldn't. There was something so powerful about Jacen when he spoke to her like this. Even in this soft tone, his voice conveyed such intensity that Raylinda felt tiny in comparison. "Of course," was all she could manage and went back to picking at her food.

"Good," he said, wolfing down the remnants of his meal and heading over to their luggage.

Though Raylinda was only half finished with her plate she too got up. The sharp pain in her stomach must not have been hunger after all. She watched as Jacen began his usual process of double and triple-checking all their equipment before grabbing her own small suitcase and garment bag and heading to the bathroom to shower and change.

Closing the door behind her, she turned the water on in the shower and emptied her small makeup bag on the counter. Raylinda had never been as obsessed with beauty as some of her friends who could spend hours in front of the mirror. She had always wanted to look her best, but she didn't fixate on every little detail the way they did. But now, looking at herself in the mirror, she almost didn't care. Her hair was oily and messed from only a few hours of sleep and looked just the tiniest bit tired. Of course she _was _tired. This had been the most emotionally exhausting day of her life and it wasn't even over yet.

Slipping off her clothes, she slid into the glass shower stall. She let the warmth of the water wash over her and gradually felt her muscles untense. She battled the growing desire to linger in the water's embrace. As wonderful as the shower felt, she didn't want to keep Jacen waiting too long. She briskly rubbed some of the hotel's shampoo into her hair and rinsed. Lacking the time for her usual routine of body scrub and moisturizer, she hoped the floral residue would be enough to clean or at least mask any unpleasantness from the rest of her body.

With grim reluctance, she turned the water off and stepped out of the shower stall. She toweled herself off and began to prepare for the most important acting performance of her life. While she might not care as much about her appearance, the Raylinda character she was impersonating certainly would. With the same fluid efficiency that Jacen had demonstrated with the targeting computer, Raylinda set about beautifying herself. In less than ten minutes she emerged from the bathroom in a crimson formal dress accentuated by flecks of silver that gleamed iridescent at random intervals. It was certainly not an outfit for someone hoping to avoid notice. But that was the point. _This_ Raylinda never missed an opportunity to be seen. She wrapped around herself an accentuating scarf of a darker hue that polarized the material in her dress, rendering it semi-transparent.

Jacen was sitting at the foot of the bed, checking messages on his com-link. He was dressed in a slightly wrinkled dark blue business suit with a shirt and tie that were far more conservative than the flamboyant clothing the upper classes tended to wear. It was exactly what one would expect to see from a minor executive at Yagami Health Works, the company Jacen was supposedly representing.

"That's quite the dress," he said in a tone that was nonetheless void of any emotion, "You ready?"

Raylinda took a deep breath before nodding her head.

"Remember," he said, "don't look at the cameras in the hallway. We don't know that they're there."

The sharp pain, momentarily relieved by the shower was returning to her stomach. Something felt wrong. "Right," she said. She rolled up the unused garment bag and tossed it into her designer tote bag. All of her belongings were already packed inside.

Jacen grabbed the luggage and joined Raylinda by the door. "Go ahead," he said softly.

Slowly, she slid the door open and peaked her head through. She made an exaggerated scan of the hallway to make sure no other patrons were present and gracefully slid through the half-open doorframe. Reaching back into the hotel room, she took hold of Jacen's hand and pulled him close so that their bodies were touching. Passionately they kissed and Raylinda made another show of checking to make sure no one had seen. Though of course she knew the hotel's cameras were recording everything.

"You take the turbolift, I'll go down the stairs," she whispered just loudly enough for the audio sensors in the hallway to pick it up.

Pain flashed momentarily across Jacen's face and Raylinda was again amazed at his ability to express the subtleties of his role. It was the pain of a lover who had just been told that he was an embarrassment, that he was still unworthy to be seen together with her. It was brilliant.

Raylinda started to break away, but Jacen, as choreographed, grabbed her by the hand and pulled her close once more. Another passionate kiss; and another, until finally Raylinda pulled herself apart and slinked away to the carpeted staircase down the hall. She descended the first three steps before turning to look seductively at Jacen who stood watching her from in front of their room. With one final blown kiss goodbye, she finally disappeared out of sight.

Raylinda felt silly, taking the stairs only a single floor before heading for the bank of turbolifts. But she couldn't very well walk down a hundred and sixteen flights of stairs to the lobby. And the Raylinda character she was portraying still wouldn't want to be seen with someone like Jacen. He was a fling; a dirty and delicious secret.

She walked as slowly as she could to the bank of turbolifts that served as the primary circulatory system for the hotel. It wouldn't do to go down a flight of stairs only to catch the same car that Jacen was on. But even as she finally reached the turbolift bank and pressed the call button, the needle in her stomach intensified. _It's simply the adrenaline from before;_ she told herself. She pushed the call button a second time as though the turbolift car would move any faster. Finally the turbolift car came and Raylinda let out a sigh of relief seeing that it was unoccupied. What she really wanted right now was some peace and isolation.

Raylinda rode the car down to the lobby, finding tranquility in the warm hum of the operating machinery. But her relief was short lived. As she reached the lobby, the turbolift doors opened to reveal the gleaming white armor of a quartet of Imperial Stormtroopers. Quite against her will, Raylinda gasped and staggered backwards, deeper into the turbolift car.

What were they doing here? To be sure, the sight of Imperial Stormtroopers in the Royal Imperial Hotel was not entirely rare. Stormtroopers were a common-enough sight across the Empire and Coruscant in particular. And as the hotel was less than a mile from the edge of the Imperial Palace it was subject to heightened security measures. In fact, the hotel's proximity to the Palace had been the primary reason it had been selected for this operation. The Palace was protected by one of the most sophisticated defensive systems in the galaxy. Supposedly capable of intercepting any unidentified projectile within seconds, it was the reason they needed a launch point so close to their target's flight path.

Had she been thinking clearly, it would have come as no surprise that there would be Stormtroopers in the hotel lobby. Her father had told her years ago that there was always a small group or platoon of them stationed at any Imperial building. The Royal Imperial Hotel, while technically not an Imperial building, catered to enough of the upper echelons of Imperial society that the presence and security of such a powerfully Imperial symbol was welcomed by the guests and hotel staff alike. But always before, these gleaming white symbols had been of comfort to her. They had been silent guardians, protectors against subversive or criminal elements. But now she was a part of the subversive element. She was a criminal. And she was terrified.

She had finally achieved perfect empathy with all those nonhuman members of the Rebellion she had met. She had listened to their stories with a mixture of suspense and disbelief. It was one of the most striking disparities of Imperial society, that the sight of these shiny man-bots could bring so much comfort to the upper class human circles, while striking terror into the hearts of any minority group. Here in the Imperial Zone of Coruscant, it was not uncommon for the privileged elite to ask Stormtroopers for the time of day or directions to their destination, but the same requests made in one of the poorer nonhuman zones like Dhali, could easily get you beaten or worse. For so many years Raylinda had been blind to the truth, to the horrible dichotomy of the galaxy, simply because she had been born into the privilege of enjoying the better half.

But she no longer belonged to that privileged class. She had given up her membership the moment she joined the Rebellion. Those Stormtroopers were no longer her guardians, they were enemies. She remained cowering in the back of the turbolift car, too afraid to venture out into the lobby for fear that they might recognize her as such. She knew that if any of those terrifying white masks were to turn in her direction, they would certainly pierce through her charade and reveal her secrets.

But her cowering served only to draw more attention to herself. The turbolift car chimed and a high-pitched recorded voice began repeating. "Please exit the turbolift doors or select another floor for transport." Fresh fear exploding through her body, Raylinda crept forward like a child taking her first steps. But the Stormtroopers who had turned at the chiming of the turbolift turned right back to what had previously occupied their attention.

Breathing a huge sigh of relief, she gathered herself. This was all so silly. There was no way that anyone could have known what she almost had or hadn't done. She forced herself to gain control. She was Raylinda Stalwarth, the only daughter of shipping magnate Lord Cavanaugh Stalwarth. She was an Imperial citizen and member of the privileged elite. She had no reason to fear.

But despite all of her reasonable self-assurances, there was one thought that she could not get out of the back of her mind: She was also a rebel.

She continued forward, the main entrance a mere twenty meters away from her. Doing her best to seem casual, she turned her back on the quartet and strolled towards the hotel entrance. She had just paused to reach into her purse for her private com-link when there was a tap on her bare shoulder. Startled, Raylinda almost jumped out of her skin.

But it was not the cold, lifeless mask of a Stormtrooper that confronted her; rather it was a warm, somewhat pudgy face of a man wearing a burgundy blazer that marked him as part of the hotel staff. It was a face she recognized but could not place and a tinge of disappointment seemed to pass over it, as though he knew she was struggling to place him and regretted that she could not.

"It's Rochefort, Miss Stalwarth. I am one of the day managers here at the Royal Imperial Hotel. It was me with whom you made your reservation."

Immediately, like the flipping of a light switch, Raylinda was back into character of what had for so many years been her life as a socialite. "Of course, Mr. Rochefort," she said with a light chuckle, "do forgive me for being so forgetful, but it has been a most strenuous morning. I trust you are well?"

"Quiet well Miss Stalwarth, thank you, but I wonder if you might do me the favor of accompanying me to my office for just a moment."

Icy terror collected in the pit of Raylinda's stomach. In all her stays here, she had never been approached by a manager like this. "Really Mr. Rochefort, as I have already said it has been quite the day already, I fear I must be going."

"Truly Miss Stalwarth, it will take but a moment."

There was an insistence to his voice and Raylinda felt the icy pit in her stomach grow. The man's eyes darted away from her and towards the quartet of Stormtroopers.

"As it happens, Mrs. Stalwarth, the item I wish to speak with you about has a great deal to do with the…how did you put it? 'Strenuousness of your morning.' As I said, this will take but a moment." He reached out and grabbed her bag. "Here, allow me to carry this for you."

Raylinda felt numb. Was there anything incriminating in the bag? Or did Jacen take all the equipment? She couldn't remember. She looked pleadingly at the man, but he gave no sign of recognition. Instead he just turned and said "Right this way Miss Stalwarth," and led her past the guest relations counter. Resigned to her fate, Raylinda accompanied Mr. Rochefort towards his office.

To Raylinda, who was certain she was walking towards a very real and very immediate doom, the walk seemed to last an eternity. To Rochefort, who was immune from the feelings of his guest, it took only a few seconds to get to his small, but well-adorned office. He pulled one of the chairs out and held it for Raylinda as she sat down. He then laid her tote bag on the corner of his large, spotless desk. Raylinda watched in horror as the items inside shifted and the bag leaned away from her. She was almost certain that Jacen had taken all of the equipment in his own luggage, but a pang of doubt still plagued her and the image of computer pieces scattered across Mr. Rocheforts desk haunted her imagination. Of course, if he already knew what she was doing here, it didn't really matter what was in her bag.

Once seated, Rochefort began quickly. "I'm afraid you put me in a rather difficult position Miss Stalwarth. A position I do not wish to find myself in again."

_Again? Was there hope? Did this man somehow have the power to let her go? To get her out of this? What would she have to do?_

"The Stalwarth family has long been among our most honored guests here at the Royal Imperial Hotel since the time of your great grandfather. Naturally we would never dream of invading your privacy in any way, but there was another guest here last night. A guest who had never stayed with us before and somehow seemed…how shall I put this?...a bit too provincial.

"Naturally, given our proximity to the Imperial Palace, such a man was quietly put under surveillance. And I promise you, it was only out of a grave concern for the safety of our guests that he was still under observation when he approached your room and was seen…demonstrating his affection for you in the hall."

Raylinda's jaw nearly fell from her mouth.

"Of course, when it was clear that such affection was consensual, our staff security promptly withdrew." He leaned across his desk and dropped his voice. "I saw to it personally that you were not disturbed thereafter."

By now Raylinda's face was a cherry red as she raced to catch her breath.

But even through her pulsing thoughts Rochefort continued unabated his steady, streaming narrative. "This leads me to the rather difficult position I find myself in, Miss Stalwarth. While you are of course an honored guest at this hotel, I am afraid that it is Lord Cavanaugh Stalwarth, your father, to whom I must first concern myself. And knowing that you had spent the night here, with this…ruffian, would undoubtedly cause his displeasure.

"So, you can see, I am left with an uncomfortable choice: Either I inform your father of this event, which would result in great turmoil between you and him; or I keep this a little secret between the two of us. I find myself inclined towards the latter option, for so long as your father does not know, he will not be distressed. But I must also remind you Miss Stalwarth that your father is a very powerful man, and powerful men tend to have ways of finding things out. Therefore I can not run the risk of this sort of behavior continuing and it becoming known to Lord Stalwarth, through some other means, not only of your liaison, but that I kept such a secret from him. For if that did happen, I assure you, the repercussions for me would be most distasteful."

He straightened. "So here is my proposition to you Miss Stalwarth. I will keep the events of last night a secret, so long as you promise to keep any future such rendezvous away from my hotel. What do you say? It really is for the best. After all, here you run the risk of accidentally bumping into any number of associates of your father. This really is a poor place to, shall we say, 'conduct business' that you wish to keep hidden from your father. Might I even suggest that you look offworld. I hear the Moons of Avarlii are quite breathtaking this time of year."

Raylinda nodded with somewhat more enthusiasm than Rochefort would have expected from someone in her position. But then again, he could not know the incredible relief she was feeling or how close to death she thought she had been. Rochefort simply took it as a sign of his charm and persuasion. He rose buoyantly from his desk, handing her bag back to her as he escorted the young lady from his office. As he opened the door, he placed his hand upon the small of her back and whispered to her menacingly.

"And do not think for one moment, my dear, that you might be able to sneak something past me. I can assure you I know all that goes on at my hotel."

Had Raylinda been in any other mood, she would have appreciated the irony of that statement, for it was now clear that Rochefort was _not _aware of the events unfolding at his hotel. How unfortunate then, that nothing came of their cover and that Mr. Rochefort was guaranteeing that the Rebellion would get no second chance.

But even as Raylinda walked jubilantly from the manager's office the feeling in the pit of her stomach refused to subside completely. She looked across the lobby to the quartet of white-clad Stormtroopers that appeared to be starring in her direction. They began approaching her direction.

Whatever they may or may not know, Raylinda had no desire to be anywhere around them right now. She was only about seven paces from the exit and the Stormtroopers were at least thirty paces away. Running away would only make her seem suspicious, and even so there was no way she could run in the dress and heels she wore. Briskly, she dug a hand into her tote bag searching for her purse, but the bags contents seemed to have spilled all over. She dug deeper into the bottom of the bag and was rewarded with her com-link. Pretending as though she were answering a call, she made a line for the door and sped away in the quick, but practiced walk of a Coruscanti socialite.

Once out the door she began a leisurely stroll to her left along a line of three hovercabs idling in front of the hotel. _Relax, _she told herself, _there's no reason for a Stormtrooper to be following you, it was just coincidence. He's not coming out after you, in fact he's probably at the front desk right now. _She glanced quickly in the reflection of the hovercab window and saw a lone Stormtrooper about to breach the hotel doors. She began to approach the cab's passenger door when she became suddenly aware that there was a similar line at the taxi starter. She couldn't very well cut in front of the line and waiting didn't seem like a good option either. Out of other options and with a Stormtrooper rapidly closing from behind, Raylinda made a snap decision to continue moving forward and try to lose herself in the crowds of the Coruscant streets.

There was busy line of pedestrians making there way along the walkway towards the Imperial Palace that seemed like a perfect place to lose herself in a crowd. "Oh, of course," she said loudly into her com-link as she joined the pedestrian traffic. "I'd love to join you tomorrow," she risked a quick glance over her shoulder and saw the telltale gleam of Stormtrooper armor still shadowing her.

Raylinda silently cursed herself for wearing such a conspicuous outfit when she noticed a group of officials of some sort who were wearing the most hideous outfits of crimson and lime. Hoping desperately that the similar colors might shield her from the prying eyes of the Stormtrooper who seemed to be following her, Raylinda carefully paralleled the group.

After some strenuous searching through her bag, she managed to pull a small cosmetic mirror from her bag and tried to use the reflection to keep track of the Stormtrooper. He seemed to be moving in her general direction, but with a bit of hesitancy. She didn't understand. What could this Stormtrooper possibly want? He didn't have any backup and he hadn't once yelled out or called for her to 'stop!' He was just _following _her.

Raylinda moved to put the mirror back when she realized that in the few minutes hiding amongst the group, they'd made it all the way to the public gate of the Imperial Palace. Raylnda found herself caught between following the group into the Palace or turning around against the flow of traffic and back towards the tailing Stormtrooper.

Unable to make a choice, inertia ultimately decided for her and Raylinda found herself walking through the gate. Fortunately, the guards at the gate must have assumed she was a part of the group because she was not prompted for her pass or id. Whatever the Stormtrooper had wanted, it surely couldn't be important enough to follow her into the Imperial Palace. He would have to go back. _Please _she pleaded silently, not daring to turn around, _just go back._

Instead, she heard the tell-tale mechanical notes of a Stormtrooper behind her. She couldn't quite make out what he was saying, but judging by the distance, she guessed he was at the gate, speaking to the guard there. Raylinda picked up her pace, hoping to put more ground between herself and her pursuer.

But even as she hoped, she knew it was in vain. Directly ahead of her, a Stormtrooper drooped his masked face slightly; a gesture that usually meant someone was speaking to him through the com-link in his helmet. He must be receiving a description of her right now.

Raylinda bolted to her left and into a small, private stall designed to provide tourists with the details surrounding the construction and history of the Imperial Palace. She pulled the curtain closed behind her and the pre-programmed video began to play. None of this made any sense. If they knew about their failed plans, they would have held her at the hotel or chased after her with a whole squad. What was going on? She sat in the dark, the muted glow of the holographic display carrying on before her. She forced herself to take a deep breath. She wondered if the whole thing could have been imagined.

A moment passed with unbearable sluggishness. Then another, and another.

Was her fear now any more founded than it had been with Rochefort?

Was she safe?

The curtain pulled opened.


End file.
